


halloween but worse

by foxtrot12



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Confessions, Feelings Realization, M/M, dumb boys, jeremy is a furry, mention of boners a lot oops, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 12:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11313159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxtrot12/pseuds/foxtrot12
Summary: What could be worse than Rich setting a fire, you may be wondering.  Michael in an eight dollar cat costume.





	halloween but worse

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry

Jeremy couldn't believe his eyes.  This couldn't be happening, not tonight, not  _ ever.   _ His thumbs hovered over his untouched keyboard, his new picture message staring him straight in the face.  Jeremy's stomach did a strange little flip, making him feel things he certainly should  _ not  _ be feeling.

_ From Player One:  _

_ like my costume for tonight? xoxo _

_ One attachment. _

Was Jeremy, honest to God, getting hard off of the picture Michael sent?  Maybe a little.  Could he not wait to see Michael's costume in person?  Absolutely not.  Jeremy rolled over in his bed, hugging his dolphin stuffed animal closer to his chest.

He never wanted to see Michael in those black cat ears in person: never, ever in a million years.  He didn't think he could stand the embarrassment.  Then again, the other, small part of him screamed  _ hurry up, Michael!   _

_ From Player One:  _

_ jers?  you still with me?  or is my costume that ugly?   _

_ From Player One: _

_ also ill be over in a few.  and before you start yelling abt texting and driving my mom is dropping me off her and my dad are going to eat after  _

_ To Player One: _

_ good you better not be texting and driving _

_ and it's a fine costume.  it looks cheap tho… you skimping out on me?   _

Jeremy's head dropped.   _ Fine  _ was an understatement.  Cute, Adorable, maybe a tad bit sexy.   _ Those  _ were some proper adjectives.

_ From Player One: _

_ me?!  skimping out on you?!  never!!!!!  _

Jeremy's eyes fell to his costume.   _ He  _ was the one skimping tonight.  After days of forgetting and putting off, Jeremy was left with a last minute decision: last year's costume or a sheet ghost.  Since last year's costume both held too many bad memories and was a little tight, Jeremy resorted with cutting out holes in an old, pink bedsheet.  

Getting out of bed and picking up the bed sheet, he haphazardly threw it over his, or Michael's, creep sweater and jeans, pulling it around until he lined the holes up with his eyes.  Michael probably wouldn't accept this as a Pinky costume, but it was the best he had.

“Honey!” a voice sung out, followed by a door closing.  “I'm home!”  Moments later the _ thump thump thump _ of Michael running up the stairs hit Jeremy's ears.  There was a pause and a curse; Jeremy assumed Michael tripped.  Regardless, the door swung open soon after and Michael stuck one— _ was he wearing leather boots?!— _ leg into Jeremy's room.

“Are you ready for a night of fun?” he asked, a dopey grin on his face as he leaned against the door frame, striking an embarrassingly familiar pose to the  _ ya like jazz  _ one.

Jeremy's eyes nearly popped out of his head.  Not only were his boots, which had small heels, made entirely of leather, but his whole outfit was made of disgustingly shiny, black leather.  His shorts were  _ far too tight, _ unfortunately for Jeremy, leaving little to the imagination.  And  _ oh God his top— _ the V neckline went down  _ way  _ too far and it hugged every curve and divot on his body.  Jeremy was also sure it was showing off his nipples clear as day, too.  And, of course, there were the cat ears.

_ “Absolutely not,”   _ Jeremy managed to choke out, his voice an octave higher than normal.

“Jerbear,” Michael pouted, shoulders slumping as he pushed off of the doorframe.  “What is that?!” he cried, gesturing to Jeremy's  lame costume.

“Um… Pinky…,” he mumbled, picking at the bedsheet.  Gathering the material in his hands, he pushed the cloth over his face, letting it bunch on his shoulders.  “I kinda forgot.”

Michael sighed dramatically.  “That's okay, I did, too.  I found this at the mall before I left.  My mom nearly had a heart attack but I convinced her to let me wear it.”  Michael stuck out his leg again.  “So, what do you think?”

“I, uh,” Jeremy gaped, his eyes drinking in all the terrible and yet compelling parts of his outfit.  “I can't believe you've got more cleavage than Brooke,” was what Jeremy finally managed to sputter out.  

Michael frowned, his hands reaching up to defensively hold his chest.  Jeremy wanted to die right then and there when Michael looked him straight in the eye,  _ squeezed _ his chest, and replied: “Don't make fun of my moobs.”

“I, uh,” Jeremy stammered, face going red, “I wasn't… making fun of your  _ moobs.”  _  Jeremy had to choke the word out.  Was this really happening?  Because it felt more like some bizarre Twilight Zone episode.  “C-can we just, um, go?” he asked, pulling down on the front of his shirt.  

Michael shrugged.  “Yeah, I guess.”  He began his overly dramatic strut back out the door when Jeremy stopped him.

“Nuh uh.  Get back here, you aren't wearing that out.”

“But  _ Jeremy,”  _ Michael whined.  “I spent eight bucks on this!” 

“Dude, there are like, kids out walking around.  Plus, I'm not being seen with your hairy—,” Jeremy closed his eyes, regretting every word, “— _ moobs.”  _

Jeremy nearly shuddered, retreating further in his room to rummage for a shirt.  After a moment of searching, and Michael's incessant, impatient tapping, he found a  _ Star Wars  _ shirt big enough to fit Michael.  Was it Michael's shirt?  It looked familiar and Jeremy had a tendency to end up with Michael's clothes.

“Take this,” he said, tossing him the shirt.  Michael grumbled but put the shirt on anyway.  

“I'm keeping the shorts.”

“ _ Why,”  _ Jeremy pleaded.  “They look uncomfortable.”

“They  _ are,”  _ Michael replied, fixing his shirt, “it's not fun having your dick be pinched by leather, Jeremy, but have you seen the way it sculpts my ass?  Worth it.”  Finally, out of all of Michael's dumb comments from the night, Jeremy broke a smile.  Michael smiled in his success.

“Let's go, you weirdo.  I heard Mrs. Mitchell is handing out full sized candy bars.” 

“Really?!” Michael gasped, half running, half waddling to the door as he adjusted his booty shorts.  “But her driveway is soooo long!”

Jeremy snorted.  “Maybe if you weren't in heels, you wouldn't mind.”

“Shut up, I look hot,” he mumbled, running down the stairs as quickly and carefully as he could manage.  “Oh!  That reminds me: can you put on my tail?” 

_ What huh wait what? _

“Your  _ what? _ ”  Michael hopped down off of the last step and turned around to give Jeremy a knowing glance before heading towards the kitchen. 

“I couldn't get it on myself and there was no way I was asking my mom to put it on for me.”  Wide eyed, Jeremy followed Michael into the kitchen where a tail lay on the table.  He snatched it up and handed it to Jeremy.  “Well?”

“Oh, y-yeah sure!” he stammered, his voice raising in pitch again.  

Michael turned around and  _ fuck he's right leather does make his butt look good—    _ Jeremy fiddled with the tail in his hand; it looked like all he had to do was clip it on Michael's shorts.  Oh, yeah, totally normal: putting a  _ fucking tail  _ on his best friend—  _ why  _ did this excite Jeremy in all the wrong ways?

“Jers?” Michael called, wiggling his hips to get Jeremy's attention, which did not help  _ at all.   _ “As much as I love bending over for you, put the tail on and let's  _ goooooo.   _ I'm ready to fill my stomach with more candy than I can count.” 

“You'll crash,” Jeremy said, carefully pulling the hem of Michael's shorts away from his body to clip the tail on.

“I don't 'crash,’ Jeremy.  That's  _ you.”    _ Michael moved away from Jeremy once he felt the tail was on and turned around.  “Don't you remember freshman year— the last day of school?  We stayed up  _ all  _ night eating and drinking and I thought you were going to break something you were bouncing off the walls so much.  Until one am came around and you fell into a  _ coma.”   _

“Don't remember that,” Jeremy mumbled, rubbing his arm uncomfortably.  He  _ did  _ remember and he  _ also  _ remembered he gets really affectionate right before he crashes.  He woke up attached to Michael's side. 

“Of course,” Michael laughed.  “Okay, you ready?  Let's go!  Pull that ratty sheet over your head!  I think we can hit four streets before it gets 'too late.’”  

Michael rolled his eyes and reached for the pillowcase laying on the kitchen table.  Narrowing his eyes and giving Jeremy a smirk, he shook his hips, spinning in a circle on the heel of his boot before running off to the door.  Jeremy's eyes widened, watching Michael move, and his  _ tail  _ move with him.  He knew he liked tails on girls but  _ why did he like it on his best friend? _

Jeremy sighed, pulling his sheet over his head.  At least Michael wouldn't be able to see his expression—or blush—all night.  Grabbing his plastic pumpkin carrier off of the table, Jeremy debated whether he should grab a pillow case instead.  Before he could decide upon anything, the glaring tent in his bedsheet grabbed his attention.

_ Fuck fuck fuck. _

Jeremy nearly had a heart attack—did he really get a stiffy from his best friend?  Who was in  _ leather booty shorts, heels, and cat getup?   _ Jeremy whined, wondering if the universe had a personal vendetta against him in particular.

“Jeremy!” Michael called from the door.

“Coming!” Jeremy yelled back, strategically placing his plastic pumpkin in front of his crotch.  

Two streets into the night, Jeremy was still uncomfortable.  Simply  _ knowing  _ Michael had a tail and cat ears on was enough to drive him crazy.  And his top and shorts hugged his body so nicely…  It didn't help that Michael was practically hanging off of him.  He claimed Jeremy was his balance; his heels were getting harder to walk in.  Jeremy called bull fucking shit.  

Jeremy was in a bit of a panic.  Who wouldn't if they had a stiffy for their thirteen year best friend?  After Rich's whole bi-epiphany, Jeremy began to question his own sexuality and, despite being  _ open  _ to the idea of guys, he's never really been  _ attracted  _ to them before tonight.  Sure, Michael was good looking and he  _ was  _ his best friend, he loved him more than anything but did he—

“Earth to Pinky,” Michael called, nudging Jeremy's shoulder.  “Do you have any Kit-Kats in your thing?  I know I have some but I don't wanna search for them.”

“Huh?  Oh yeah, sure.”  Jeremy looked down to the pumpkin concealing his stiffy.  There was no way he was moving it to give it to Michael, so he searched on his own.  

Jeremy had stopped putting candy in his pumpkin a while ago—he ran out of space.  He started filling Michael's instead.  It didn't really matter either way, they dump out all the candy when they get home and share it in the end.  

“Here,” Jeremy said, handing over the candy.  “Got any Twizzlers?”

“Yeah, hold on,” Michael stopped to rummage.  “Hey, dude, are you alright?”  Michael looked up for a moment, genuinely concerned.  “You've been all quiet and weird.  Oh God—” Michael's face fell, “it's not back, is it?  Man, I  _ knew  _ I should've brought some Mountain Dew with us.  We can go home if you want.”

“No, Michael, I'm fine, really.  It hasn't been bothering me for a bit and I had some Dew before you got to my house, just in case.  I'm just… tired?”

Michael held up a Twizzler, waving it in front of Jeremy's face.  “You crashing on me already?  Maybe I shouldn't give this to you if I'll need to carry you home by the end of the night.”

Jeremy's cheeks burned under his sheet and he snatched the candy from Michael.  “I'm not crashing.”  He unwrapped the package with some difficulty and munched on the Twizzler under the bedsheet.  “C'mon, let's keep going.  We need more candy before we head home.”  Jeremy ran ahead of Michael to avoid further questions.

By the end of the night, Michael's pillowcase was nearly overflowing.  Jeremy freaked out when Michael took Jeremy's pumpkin and shoved the pillowcase in his hands; he didn't want to drag it back home and decided Jeremy needed to pull his weight for the rest of the night.

“I'm exhausted,” Michael sighed, collapsing on the bed in Jeremy's basement.  “But!” Michael nearly shot up in bed, “I'm ready for more candy!”

Jeremy kneeled on the floor, pulling his bedsheet off and resting it over his lap, very precisely, before dumping the contents of the pillowcase out.  Candy spilled everywhere and Michael came to sit on the ground.

“Aren't you gonna take that off?” Jeremy asked, pointing to Michael's outfit.  To be fair, he didn't  _ want  _ him to remove the cat getup, but the leather did look uncomfortable.

“Only if you give me a foot massage, heels fuckin _ kill.” _

“That's… never happening.  Ever,” Jeremy shook his head and Michael laughed.  

“I can take this off, though,” he said, pulling the  _ Star Wars  _ shirt off.  

“No, no, no, put that back on or take  _ that  _ off,” Jeremy groaned, pointing to Michael's chest.  It was the dreaded Return of the Moobs.  

“Fine,” Michael replied, proceeding to peel the leather off.  Jeremy watched in horror—he could actually _ hear  _ the skin detaching from the leather.  Once it was off, Michael set it next to him and put on the shirt again.  “I'll take off the pants later.  They're pinching again but I don't wanna get up.  Unless you don't mind my boxers.”

“I think I know what your boxers look like better than mine,” Jeremy said, picking through the candy.  “It's not like ripping your pants off has ever bothered you before.” 

“If you say so,” Michael mumbled and then peeled  _ another  _ piece of leather off.  “I'm keeping the boots, though.”  After getting the shorts off, Michael unclipped the tail and gathered all of his clothes together.  He stood up with them in his arms and went to his bag to stuff them away.

“Does your underwear say…  _ naughty?   _ Oh my God.”  Jeremy nearly choked.

“I had to get short boxers so it wouldn't show under the costume—and you  _ know  _ I don't like briefs cause my thighs rub together—and the shorter they get, the, um, _ naughtier _ they get,” Michael explained, for once this night seeming embarrassed.

Michael walked back over to Jeremy, hovering over him for a moment.  Something about his heeled boots was slightly intimidating up close.  Without warning, Michael reached down and snatched the sheet up.

“Did you even wash this before wearing it?  This thing is gross.”

“Michael!” Jeremy yelled, desperately clawing for the bedsheet with no avail.  He scrambled to press his hands to his crotch in a poor attempt to hide his bulge.

“Dude, chill, I'm just—  _ oh my God.”   _ Michael froze, his eyes trained on Jeremy's crotch.  “Do you— are you hard?”  Michael tried to keep a straight face but laughter overtook him.

“N-no!” Jeremy yelled, his voice cracking as a blush spread across his cheeks.  There was  _ no way  _ he'd talk his way out of this.  “S-stop laughing!” 

“D-dude!” Michael wheezed, brushing the tears out of his eyes.  “Was it my costume?  Oh my God!  Rich said you liked cat girls but I didn't know you  _ really _ liked them!”

“You planned this?!” Jeremy shouted, finally removing his hands from his crotch to throw his hands down on the ground.

“Y-yeah,” Michael gasped through his dying laughter.  

“Why?” Jeremy mumbled, burying his face in his hands.  “I've been questioning my fucking sexuality all night because of you.”

“Whoa, really?” Michael beamed.  “I, uh, wanted to grab your attention.”

“Michael,” Jeremy whined, peaking through his fingers, “you don't need a tail to get my attention, you numb nuts.” 

Michael snorted trying to keep in a laugh.  “Nothing is numb about  _ your—” _

“Michael!” 

“It's okay, dude, we all get broners sometimes,” Michael commented, sitting down next to Jeremy.

“Don't you, uh, mean boners?” 

“No, I mean  _ broner _ .  You know, a boner for your bro?”  Michael picked up a Twix bar and began eating like this was nothing.

“Oh my God,” Jeremy mumbled.  Somehow,  _ broner,  _ made everything ten times worse.

The two sat in silence after that, Michael collecting a pile of wrappers by his side, Jeremy pulling at Michael's creeps shirt anxiously.  He was conflicted and it was all Michael's fault— how was he just eating their stash like nothing had just happened?  Jeremy inhaled, knowing he was going to regret his next words.

“What if… what if it wasn't just a bro thing?”

Oh  _ God. _

Michael froze.  He set down his candy bar slowly.  Jeremy could see the blush on his face.

“I, uh— _ what?   _ What, do you, um, mean?” Michael swallowed thickly.

Jeremy wanted to punch himself.  “What if it's not a bro thing like… what if it's cause I like you?”  Jeremy's voice lowered to a whisper.

Michael went quiet before replying.  “So when you said you were questioning your sexuality… you meant it?”  Jeremy nodded, hanging his head so Michael couldn't see his face.  “Holy shit.” 

Jeremy would've been worried but Michael didn't seem mad or anything.  Jeremy dare say he seemed excited.

“Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up.  I've just got a problem controlling my dick,” Jeremy groaned.  “Can we just forget about this?”

“Jeremy…,” Michael started quietly, putting his hand on Jeremy's knee.  Jeremy jumped from the contact.  “This isn't something we just forget about.  We should talk about this.  We don't have to now, maybe in the morning?”

Jeremy nodded hesitantly, still avoiding Michael's face.

“Good.  We forget about it for now: we eat our hearts out and play videogames until we pass out.  And in the morning after your, uh, problem, is gone and the sugar high has worn away, we can talk.”

“So… this isn't awkward?” Jeremy asked, finally looking up at Michael.  Maybe he  _ was  _ in love with Michael; he's never known anyone to be so kind and supportive towards him.  To be fair, he's never known  _ anyone  _ like Michael and he didn't think  _ anyone  _ could compare. 

“No, it's awkward,” Michael nodded.  “But only a little.”

Jeremy smiled nervously.  “Wait… why do you want to talk?  Why not just flat out reject me now?”

“Talking is… important?” Michael shrugged.  “And, I, uh, wouldn't reject you.”

Jeremy's chest tightened, his entire body burning.  “You, uh, you like me?” he squeaked.

Michael nodded, pulling at his shirt.  “For a while,” he whispered.

Jeremy smiled.  He still felt jittery and kind of like throwing up, but hearing this made him feel better.

“I didn't want to influence your judgement,” Michael mumbled.  

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Jeremy mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut at his own awkwardness.  “Can we, uh, play those video games now?  I think I just need some time to cool down.”

Michael smiled.  “Sure, buddy.”

“And  _ please  _ take off those boots.”

**Author's Note:**

> so sorry. check out @ nutsillart on ig for some art of this


End file.
